Maybe You Shouldn’t Have Kids

A while back, driving home from the market some Saturday morning in the fall, my wife turned and said, “I don’t think you should have had kids.” Defensively I retorted with something to the effect of, “Of course I should, everyone should. Someday this will all be worth it!”

But she’d planted the seed, and struck a nerve at the same time. Since that day, I’ve occasionally considered our conversation. The question comes up during especially bad days, and lately we’ve had a lot of bad days. With our oldest, we’ve made the transition from the “terrible twos” to the “totally atrocious threes”.

So I ask the question: “Should I be a father?”

At this point the question is moot, I am aware that it’s not an undo-able decision. It’s not purchasing a family car and deciding, “Well, I think actually an e-bike would better suit my needs, or maybe I’d rather just walk.”

I’m stuck, we’re stuck. No matter what I do, for the rest of eternity I am a father. If I divorce my wife and run off to Madagascar, or fulfill my dream of becoming an ocean going nomad, I will always have these two children that carry my genetic material. When I die and their children have children, I will always be their father’s father’s father.

I’m aware of the absurdity of the question and trying to work on banishing the phrase from my vocabulary, trying to save my brain from this pointless exercise.

But while it’s too late for me, perhaps you should ask yourself the question. Maybe you can save yourself from some of the trouble I’ve gotten myself into.

Here it is: Do you really want to be a parent?

Or let me make that a little bit more graphic. Do you really want to stumble through life in a zombie-like, sleep-deprived state for the better part of 5 years? Are you ready to not have more than two hours per day of quality time to do what you want and work on your own projects? Is procreating worth permanently fucking up your relationship with your spouse, or best case squandering some of your fit years where you really could have had fun together? Do you want to dread going out in public, or entertaining guests at home because you know those little bastards are going to ruin your day?

Now I know what you’re thinking — this guy is just a bitter thirty year old who didn’t teach his kids any manners and isn’t willing to work at his relationship. And maybe I’m being a little dramatic.

You’re probably right. In fact, I’ll admit to all three of those things and much, much more. I’m certain that I’m doing a poor job and not putting in the work that I should.

What makes you so sure you’re going to do it better? How do you know your embryos are going to be more civilized like adult British royalty and less little terrorist? Why are you so certain your relationship is different than mine? I sure as hell thought all of those things.

Don’t take it the wrong way, I do love my children and would never harm them. We have our own magical moments, and I still believe that one day I will be thankful that they exist.

Right now however, it’s damn hard work. Constant battles over the most obscenely trivial transgressions. Once, I flushed the toilet after my son had gotten up and walked away. He screamed at me for 45 minutes because he had actually hoped to be the one to send that turd into oblivion.

Had I known all of those things beforehand, or that there was even a 50% chance that this is what our life would become, I might have made a different decision. I might have pondered the question a bit more intensely, for a little longer.

Now, it could be that we would have done it all the same. But maybe not. Maybe we would have delayed children a year, or three. Maybe we would have never even tried.

At least now, I have some words of advice for those thinking about children.

Because honestly, I never gave it much thought. People grow up and get married and buy houses and have children. It’s what everyone does, and what normal people do. Deep down we all want to feel normal on some level.

When I hear of friends or acquaintances doing medical intervention to get pregnant I think: no. No, that wouldn’t have been for me.

If it wasn’t going to happen easily or on its own we weren’t going to force it. Not that I believe in destiny or fate, or that some god or nature has decided who should receive offspring and who not. I just think about how painful it would be to go through so much work to bring such an ungrateful little being into the world. Because in all the moments through the years when it is difficult, and it will be difficult, I wouldn’t be able to shake that disappointment.

So I implore you, for your own sake, think about it. Read books about it, or just look and see how many books have been written about getting children to behave better.

Ask yourself beforehand if you really want children. Ask yourself if you’re really ready. Hell, ask yourself before you get into a serious relationship if you want kids.

But ask yourself: Do you really want children?